


Six Hours

by amylix



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 19:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15848295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amylix/pseuds/amylix
Summary: All it took was six hours for Bang Chan to enter Lee Minho's life and then take it.





	Six Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This story might be triggering for some people as it contains mental health issues and please consider that I am not really familiar with psychiatrists and how they do their job so it might be a bit oc I hope you understand

The clock was ticking as each second passed throughout the day and shortened the life of somebody or possibly ticked the timing of somebody's death. Time is a curse and a blessing, you never know if the next second is your death or if its a death of your loved ones or if the next second is going to be the happiest moment of your life. Sadly even, sometimes death can even be the happiest moment in somebody's and in that case the young doctor has seen many cases of that. He was truly pitiful for his patients as they came in each day wishing they could die right on the spot. 

The doctor sipped his morning coffee as he stared out if his office’s window, looking at the people in the streets and analyzing their facial expressions. People were tired and he wasn’t sure if it was because it’s morning or because of other reasons, but he knew they were tired. As his cup of coffee was emptied, he proceeded to return back to his desk, going through the papers and organising everything as he prepared himself for another day at work.  
He played some sweet music to calm his senses and played his fingers to the soft piano sound.

Minho already knew how his day would go as there are 2 common things in all of his patients. Fear and love, or even the both together. Most of his patients would come saying they can't love whoever loves them, or can't make whoever they love love them, or can't love anybody at all, or can’t love themselves, or can't make others love them, and often the overthinking of it leads to anxiety and fear. Or it could be somebody scared to fall asleep, scared of death, scared their not good enough, scared they left the light open at night, scared themselves. In most cases the both are connected but it could be one case separately but fear and love are always included.

The bell rang on his desk signalling a patient would enter in a few minutes. He quickly adjusted his suit and sat back on his desk awaiting his next patient. The patient quickly entered, looking everywhere around him in fear as if someone was watching him. Minho smiled at him kindly and signalled for him to sit down. Shakily, the man sat down, his knees giving up on him as he almost fell on the chair in front of Minho. “Hello there, Seungmin. How are you today?” Minho said as he read his name from the file on his desk and gave him another cheerful smile. Seungmin tried his best to return the smile but it was too forced that Minho felt his own smile fading. “I’m fine, d-doctor. Thank you.” He said shakily, his fingers trembling as he played with them on Minho’s desk.

“Oh, please, do call me Minho, there are no needs for honorifics. I’m glad to hear that you're fine, but I can see that there is something bothering you, so would you mind telling me what that is? and please, make yourself comfortable.” Minho said, smiling at the poor, terrified guy again making him feel a little more calm. “Thank you Minho. would you mind if I sit there?” Seungmin pointed at a couch at the end of the room. Minho immediately nodded with a quiet 'make yourself comfortable’. Seungmin quickly laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling and relaxing more and more. He took a deep breath to calm himself one more time and then opened his mouth and started to talk.

“I feel scared all the time. I used to be happily married before my wife was killed in our apartment by the hands of a bastard neighbor and since then I've been alone. And I might seem crazy to you but her spirit is still there in my house. I can feel her every night walking through the apartment, I can hear her calling for me, I can still hear her sweet voice humming at night in the kitchen and at first it was great. It felt as if she was still there with me. But know it's not nice anymore. Instead of hearing her beautiful laughter or humming, I hear her screaming and thrashing as she struggles against something. I can hear her screaming for me each night telling me to save her but I can't and it tortures me. It kills me inside.”

He paused to wipe the tears that covered his red cheeks as he shook horribly on the couch. Minho felt deep sorrow for poor Seungmin as he was witnessed the death of his wife every night even after her burial. “I moved apartments. I felt extremely guilty leaving my first home with her but I just couldn't take it anymore. But she followed me there. I hear her humming and sweetly calling for me and saying 'Minnie, I miss you.’ And it would sound so sweet but then she would scream at me saying 'Why didn’t you save me, why did you leave our home?’ and then I would hear her crying and my heart would break. I’m so tired Minho, I feel like killing myself. I can’t bear to witness her die in front of me each night. It destroys me.”

Minho sighed, organising his thoughts and words as to not hurt the poor guy’s feelings by saying the wrong word. He doesn’t really need Minho’s bad words, he is already going through a lot. “Have you.. seen her die in front of you the day she was killed?” Minho said slowly, as to not trigger the man. Seungmin slowly nodded. “I was handcuffed to the bed and she was beaten in front of me.” Seungmin shook horribly on the couch as his fists clenched and his tears fell from his eyes. Minho knew exactly what he was feeling. Guilt. “It could be hallucinations from the shock of the incident. She was killed in front of you and that’s not something your brain and heart could take easily. I’m so sorry that happened to you Seungmin, but I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for you in heaven.” Minho said, offering Seungmin a small, empathetic smile, as he proceeded to write down medications to stop Seungmin’s hallucinations.

“Take these medications before you go to bed at night and try to calm your senses and think about anything else but her before going to sleep. I’ll see you in 2 weeks time to do a check up and see the process.” Minho gave Seungmin the paper with the medications. “I don’t want her to completely go away. I just don't want to hear her screaming.” Seungmin said quietly while looking at the floor. Minho smiled and went to pat him on the back. “Then try to remember all the good memories of you guys together and then her spirit won't leave you, and you'll feel like she is still here.” Seungmin gave a small smile. “She used to love trampolines and amusement park rides.” Seungmin said dreamily. Minho squeezed his shoulder. “Then go relive all those memories as if she is still there. her spirit still remains within your heart.” 

Seungmin left. another patient left. and another after another until it was almost 9:00 PM. Minho was wearing his optics, looking at the files of his patients and organising the schedules for each one of them. He almost looked like a detective with all of the papers and his glasses and he chuckled to himself as he imagined himself as a detective. He wouldn’t mind becoming one, he is fairly smart, but he prefers his job more. The bell rang again signalling for another patient and most probably his last one for the day, so he took off his glasses and organised his desk as he waited for his next patient to come in. 

The guy entered, and the first thing Minho noticed were the dark circles and red eyes he had. Minho’s expression slightly turned into a frown as he felt the tired energy the guy radiated. He sat down quietly as he stared into the distance. Minho waited patiently for him to compose himself and speak. The guy slowly raised his head and looked Minho in the eyes as he slowly opened his mouth as a strain of saliva appeared between his chapped lips. “Hello I’m Chan, hello, I’m Chan, hello, I’m Chan, h-hello.. I’m Chan.” The guy said repeatedly, as he clenched his fists and his face scrunched as his eyes clenched shut. Minho smiled at the guy called Chan and patted him on the shoulder. “Hello Chan, I’m Minho.”.

Chan sighed in relief as he found no judgement in the young man’s eyes. He truly hated how he had no control over his thoughts or actions. He felt so weak and useless. Suddenly his hands felt itchy and he kept scratching it but it never went away and he didn’t want to injure himself or cut his skin. “Can I, can I, can I, can I use your bathroom?” Chan repeated again and he truly felt frustrated with himself. Minho quickly nodded and motioned for the door to the bathroom and told him to take his time there. Chan entered and quickly washed his hands with his own soap. He felt temporary relief but his mind was still ongoing, thinking if the sink was clean or not and preventing his skin from touching the cold marble of the sink. He was embarrassed and agitated, he was the victim of his own toxic thoughts and he hated it. His eyes quickly watered but he prevented the tears from leaving his eyes. He promised himself he won't cry.

He then exited the bathroom and found Minho sitting patiently waiting for him while staring at the ceiling. As soon as Minho heard the bathroom door shut, he looked over at Chan and gave him a kind smile and motioned for him to sit down again. Chan quickly sat down but not before wiping the dust from the chair and then feeling embarrassed about it and afraid he offended his doctor by making him think his office is not clean, but Minho didn’t care, he still held the same kind smile he had and to make Chan a little more comfortable, he wore gloves for the germs. Chan noticed the gesture and was grateful for that as it calmed his senses more knowing there won’t be germs transferred from the doctor’s hands. Chan looked at his fingers as he played with them. “So, Chan, how was your day today?” Minho tried to strike a conversation with Chan to make him a little comfortable and open up.

Chan looked up at him and gave a small smile. “It was the usual. But I got a raise at work today.” Chan was proud of himself as he said the sentence without repetition and his mind relaxed a bit, but he knew it was temporary and his face fell again. But Minho kept his smile and clapped his hands. “Good job! It's not everyday you get a raise, you should congratulate yourself.” Minho said. Chan smiled again but it was apparent that it was a forced one “I have no friends to tell.” Minho’s expression fell a little but he returned his smile again. “Consider me your friend, tell me all about your work stories. I am all ears.” Minho leaned back in his chair as he anticipated Chan’s stories. Chan’s expression lit up. “I don’t - I don’t - I don’t - I don't - I don't really have a that much of an exciting life.” “I would like to hear all the little stories, I don’t mind at all.” Minho gave a small laugh and motioned for Chan to talk.

Chan started to talk about anything that happens in his day, repeating his words and going to the bathroom as each 20 minutes pass but Minho assured him it was no problem and even gave him wipes to wipe his hands and face whenever he needed to. Minho listened to each story he had to say no matter how stupid or small it was, he actually felt somehow intrigued to know more and listen more. Minho was really interested in everything that he said and learned new things about Chan in each story and he liked that, even though he often spaces out in the middle of other patients stories when he starts to notice the symptoms in each one to diagnose them, but with Chan he found himself listening to each letter that came out of his lips, even if the letter was repeated over 30 times, he didn't mind.

Chan ran out of stories to tell so he quickly took a breath. His expression then darkened and he opened his mouth again to speak. “I hate myself. I hate my life and I hate how I am. I hate that I have to repeat each word I say, I hate that I am always overthinking everything. I feel so weak, like I am a slave to my thoughts. I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep. My mind never rests and I’m always anxious because I don’t want people to think I’m crazy, I’m not crazy, right? Right? Right? Right? R-ight???” Chan said as he slammed his fists on the desk, frustrated with himself and his tears sprung again. “What is wrong with me, doctor?” Chan said in a broken voice as his tears fell from his eyes. Minho’s heart broke at the sight, and he was surprised at that because he never let his feelings in his work that much. 

“You’re not crazy Chan, you are far away from that.” Chan looked at Minho with his teary eyes. “Then what’s, what's wrong with me?” Chan asked in a small voice. “I can see here through your blood tests and after analyzing your thoughts and everything, you are diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, OCD for short. It’s when you have repeated thoughts - mostly unwanted - and it drives you to do something over and over again or overthink the situation and repeat your sentence many times. You are not crazy Chan, you are just misunderstood. And I’m here to help you.” Minho explained and gave Chan another smile to ease his tension and racing mind. 

Minho gave Chan his personal card and wrote down medications for him to take. “This is my personal number. Whenever you feel like you need someone to talk to, give me a call. I will gladly listen to you rant.” Minho said as he looked intently in Chan’s eyes. “Do you.. do you always do this?” Chan asked as he stared at the card in between his long fingers. Minho smiled as he put his gloved hand over Chan’s cold one. “Not really,but I can make exceptions.” Minho said, laughing softly. Chan smiled genuinely as his dimples came into view. Chan stood up shakily as he tried to cover his red face and left the room quickly muttering a quick ‘thank you’. Minho laughed at the adorable sight, but then he dazed off. Why did he do that? Why did he give his personal number to a patient? Why did he feel like he wanted to know more and more about the guy?

Minho wasn’t stupid and he knew all those questions lead to one answer but he didn’t want that. Chan needed help first and Minho needs to neglect his feelings for now. But who knows, maybe it's a temporary interest and he might lose interest afterwards. Minho rubbed his eyes as he felt the headache he had since morning as he has been working all day. He decided to call it a day and gathered all his things and left the office and went back to his apartment. On his way to his apartment his phone rang and he already had an idea of the unknown number that was calling him at this time. He answered the call in a playful tone with a smile. “Hello~?” The other line shuffled for a moment before he heard a small 'hello’ on the other line. Minho laughed at the cute tone Chan was speaking in. “Did you miss me that fast? How adorable. What do you want to talk about?” Minho asked in a gentle tone as to not embarrass the poor guy. 

“Nothing, I just, I just, I just, I just, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Minho’s heart skipped a beat at the tone Chan was speaking in and how soft he sounded. Minho chuckled softly. “Well, want me to tell you a story of my childhood?” Minho asked, gently and there was a silence for a moment on the other line -probably Chan nodding his head then realising it was a phone call- before he heard a small 'yes.’ and then Minho proceeded to tell him about how he threw a toy car at his neighbour's head by mistake and hid in a tree overnight so he won’t catch him and how he was in so much trouble that day. Chan laughed at everything Minho said and it was melody to Minho’s ear. As soon as Minho reached his apartment and changed his clothes it became 11:00 PM and Minho needed to sleep and he could hear Chan yawning on the other side as well.

“It’s getting late, you should probably go to sleep now Chan. You need all the rest you could get. And don’t forget to take your medication.” Minho instructed in a playful strict tone. Chan laughed softly and assured Minho he won’t forget or forget him. Minho was confused for a second but quickly bid goodnight to Chan and hung up the call. He laid down on his bed as he thought about the day and Chan and how he managed to spark his interest in only a few hours, Minho felt weird. Nobody ever managed to get his attention like that or even have an effect on him that fast. He was fairly surprised. But he knew that if he kept up with all these thoughts he won’t be able to go to sleep so he quickly shut the lights of the lamp next to him and closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Time is truly a curse and a blessing, you never know what it might bring you in just a few hours. In a few hours Minho met Chan who was a huge kind and sweet defeated sould and it even though the hours they spent together were filled with a lot of tears and sorrow, Minho had feelings he hadn’t felt in years. And the few minutes he spent on the phone call with Chan were one of the sweetest and happieat minutes he had ever lived. But within the next few hours he lost the sweet soul. It all came as a blur that he felt so dizzy. He even thought that the whole day was a making of his dreams and not real. He had just met the guy and he felt happiness but the lost it all. Minho was hurt, deeply hurt. Even though he only met Chan for a few hours he felt very connected to him.

He was shocked, surprised, broken, but most of all he felt guilty. How could he not notice the tone Chan was speaking with? How could he not realize that when he said he won’t forget him he was saying goodbye? as a doctor, he felt ashamed, he felt guilty. He felt responsible for his death. Minho sat there staring into space as his tears fell absentmindedly. He didn’t even know he was crying, he couldn't feel his surroundings. He was mostly confused why Chan gave up so quickly, why he didn’t give himself a chance to heal, to be better. He took his medications to keep his promise to Minho and then hung himself. He didn’t even wait for Minho to save him. 

The recording Chan sent to Minho was still playing in his head. He can still hear his plea, but instead of begging for life, he begged for death. Minho reached for his phone to play the recording again. “Minho, I’m sorry - I’m sorry - I’m sorry - I’m sorry - I’m sorry - I’m sorry, please kill me, don’t save me. I hate this, I hate these voices in my head - in my head - in my head - in my head - In My Head! kill the voices in my head or kill me, I hate everything.” And then silence. The phone was found on the floor underneath Chan as Minho’s chat was opened and the recording was sent. He still remembers his pale blue, unmoving face. He still remembers how his eyes had traces of tears still. 

Minho felt sick as he remembered how Chan looked and threw up on the floor. Minho felt the tears come out of his eyes uncontrollably as he sobbed on the floor of his room. He didn’t even bother to clean up his mess or do anything, he was so broken. He wanted to call Chan again and listen to him repeat his sentence for the millionth time, he would never complain. He wanted to hear his sweet little chuckle as he laughed at something stupid Minho said. In just six hours Chan came into Minho’s life with his innocent broken soul and left it and broke Minho’s soul instead. Chan just needed help and it was Minho’s job but he failed at that. Chan had dimples that needed to be seen by everyone but Chan decided to keep them for himself forever. 

Minho stood up and grabbed the little paper Chan left and read over it again. ‘Minho you are sweet and I liked you but mommy says that death is the place for people me so maybe if I die I can stop everything and be happy.’ Minho sobbed loudly as he read it again feeling so broken for the poor guy who held such a child-like sweet soul that was given no chance. Even his mother turned against him. He had no one, no support. He was so alone and sad. His voices killed him inside and he killed himself outside. Minho went to put the letter in his pocket and went to go see him for the last time. He entered the hospital room seeing Chan there, lying peacefully. His neck was awfully bruised from the hanging and he looked so pale.

Minho’s knees went weak and he fell beside Chan’s bed. He cried as he held Chan’s frozen hand with his shaking one and gave it a small kiss and then left the room. as soon as he left the hospital he felt emotionless. He didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t hear anything. He blocked the outside world as he stood there in his own bubble with his tears falling without his notice or knowledge. He kept walking down the middle of the streets, as he stared at nothing in particular, he just stared and wandered.The few people that were awake looked at him with different expressions. Some were sympathetic, some were confused, some were weirded out, But he gave no care to them. He didn’t even notice their looks. But as he had everything around him blocked, he didn’t hear the honking of the car as he walked down the street in the the red light.

Minho gave one look but didn’t get to give another as he fell to the floor, motionless and numb, his ear was ringing and he was confused, he didn’t know what was happening to him or what was going on but he he was slowly feeling dizzier and his eyes were closing. Was he dying? Was it the end? Would Chan be waiting for him up there? Minho wasn’t religious but he prayed for a heaven above that would have Chan there so that they can both have their own happy ending. Minho’s eyes closed as all the sounds of screaming and sirens faded away and Minho turned peaceful at 3 AM in the morning. Time was truly a curse and a blessing, in six hours Bang Chan managed to enter Lee Minho's life and bless it for a few hours, and then ruin it and take it away with him. In just six hours, they both died broken and sad.


End file.
